


Tea for Two, part 2

by FeelingFredly



Series: Better Living Through Chemistry [2]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Consensual Tea Drugging, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Humor, M/M, No Beta/No Sleep--be kind, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 12:22:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20008228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeelingFredly/pseuds/FeelingFredly
Summary: Never underestimate the capabilities of a guinea pig.Or, what happens when Ichigo gets even.





	Tea for Two, part 2

**Author's Note:**

> So, my brain refused to let the plot bunny go and now we have part two, from Ichigo's POV.
> 
> This bit qualifies for its E rating a little more than the last one, but it's still just a fun, cracky ride. Enjoy!

Kisuke’s ego was monumental.

Ichigo was certain that if it had a physical form it would be visible from space. He could just imagine the conversations on the space station _. Oh look, there are the Pyramids at Giza, the Greenhouses of Almería, Urahara Kisuke’s ego…_

The problem was that it wasn’t undeserved. The man was ridiculously capable, whether he was applying modern insights into resurrecting lost kidō or making curry, there was nothing he set his mind to that he didn’t have a better than average shot at making work. Then, add decades of training in the Onmitsukido and you had a hyper-vigilant, paranoid genius with a tendency towards manipulation and an almost preternatural ability to sense deception from others. 

It was incredibly sexy when it wasn’t making him want to bash his head into a wall. Or bash Kisuke’s head into a wall.

Ichigo also knew that he, on the other hand, had a negative ability to lie, a terrible tendency to just steam-roll through the niceties of social situations, and a total—some would say suicidal—disregard for rules and regulations when he thought they were stupid, or wrong, or, Gods forbid, both. It was probably why Kisuke loved him. 

Sometimes, though…. Sometimes he just wanted to take that competence and shove it down Kisuke’s ridiculously long, smooth, sexy, ahem… well… just make him choke on it.

Like now.

“Let me make sure I understand you.” He tried to keep his tone level. “You’re saying that the only way I could ever drug you was if you _allowed_ it.”

Kisuke tilted his hat a little so Ichigo could see his eyes and grinned. “Exactly, Ichigo-kun. I knew there was something in the tea and went along with it. You’d never do anything permanently damaging, and it was only fair after you’ve been so…” the eyes crinkled around the edges a little and Ichigo frowned, “ _accommodating_.”

“You make me sound like a kagema,” Ichigo groused. _Accommodating. He’d show the old pervert accommodating._

“Don’t be like that, Ichigo-kun,” Kisuke was trying for soothing, but it just set his hackles up further. “You know how much I value your trust and willingness to…”

“To be your guinea pig?” Ichigo finished for him. Kisuke didn’t press the point.

The hat came back down a fraction. “Human testing is always the hardest part of biological experimentation.”

“I can imagine.” Ichigo could feel the flush on his cheekbones. 

“Ichigo,” Kisuke leaned forward and put a hand out, “I only meant that after all my years of training it would be impossible for me not to notice if someone was attempting to drug me. I wasn’t saying that I didn’t trust you.”

Ichigo shrugged that off with a huff. “Oh, I know _that_. That’s not the point.”

Kisuke looked completely confused, now. It was oddly endearing.

“Then what has you so distressed?”

Ichigo threw an exasperated look at the stupidest genius he knew. “The fact that you truly believe I couldn’t do it.”

***

“Dinner was lovely, Ichigo-kun.”

Ichigo hid his satisfied smile with a little bow of thanks as he took the dishes to the sink to wash them.

“I especially liked the addition of valerian to the soup. It wasn’t enough to make the bonito bitter, but it was very relaxing.”

Fuck.

***

“I would never turn down a massage, Ichigo-kun, but next time could you skip the wolfsbane? I would much prefer to be able to feel your hands when they’re on me, rather than this numbness.”

Ichigo shook his hands, silently cursing the tingling in his fingers. 

“Yeah,” he agreed sheepishly. “Definitely no more wolfsbane.”

“Whatever you say, Ichigo-kun,” Kisuke smiled slowly as he rolled over onto his back, sliding his hands up Ichigo’s thighs where he was straddled, and the heat of him between Ichigo’s legs awakened a deep desire beneath the pleasant relaxation left by the massage, “Luckily, my lips aren’t numb.”

Fuck.

***

The glass hovered an inch below Kisuke’s lips and then was lowered to the table with an audible click.

“Ichigo-kun?”

“Yes, Kisuke?”

The blond tilted his head to one side a fraction. “Are you aware that the amount of tetradoxin in fugu required to kill a man is measured in micrograms?”

“Here,” Ichigo reached over and removed the glass, “let me get you a new drink.”

“Thank you.”

Fuck.

***

“Look, for the last time, _I don’t have a drug problem_.”

Isshin frowned and held the prescription pad even more tightly to his chest. “That is exactly what an addict would say.”

Ichigo scrubbed his hand through his hair. “It’s for Kisuke, not me. I need to knock him out. Again.”

Isshin’s eyebrows rose even higher. “You’re drugging your boyfriend? Is he mistreating you? Do we need to have an intervention? I told you he wasn’t to be trusted before you allowed him to sully your innocence, but you wouldn’t listen. I should call Karin and Yuzu, maybe the other Captains… we will save you from your perverted lover, my son. I swear!”

Ichigo groaned.

Fuck.

***

Six weeks.

He’d been trying to dose Kisuke for six weeks.

He’d researched more plants, drugs, and poisons in the past month than most med students do in their entire careers. Add to that trying to extrapolate how those substances would work on a gigai relative to how they worked on humans. It was insane.

Weirdly, he was having a blast.

“I think I understand the drugged tea experiments better now.”

Kisuke looked up from the notes he was working on and quirked a silent eyebrow. His hat had been lost earlier in a bout of athletic kissing, and his lips were still puffy and pink in a way that did strange things to Ichigo’s heartrate.

“I mean, I’m no mad scientist, but there is definitely something about setting up the experiment, having your expectations, and then watching how it all plays out. Even if it doesn’t turn out the way you want, it’s still quite… exciting.”

Something shifted behind Kisuke’s eyes and Ichigo could feel his heart kick up a pace. He knew that look.

“You may not have reached mad scientist status yet,” Kisuke’s voice was low and Ichigo had to focus to hear it, “but your attention to detail has been… admirable.”

Ichigo had been the center of Kisuke’s _attention to detail_ on more than one occasion, and he wondered if the blond was enjoying it as much as he typically did.

“Hmmm,” he stretched forward and crawled into Kisuke’s lap, allowing himself to go back to those addictive pink lips, “I’ve always strived to be admirable.”

Kisuke’s hands wrapped around his waist and then slid lower.

Fuck.

***

He was covered in dust. It was the worst part of Hueco Mundo.

“How was your visit with Grimmjow-san?” Kisuke sauntered out of the storeroom, his eyes trailing over Ichigo’s destroyed shihakusho, hovering over the two still sluggishly bleeding cuts on his side where Grimmjow had landed a couple of lucky shots.

“Oh, he’s just great. Vicious as ever. He asked when you were going to come and let him fight with your crimson bitch again.”

Kisuke nodded once. “I promised that Benihime would slice him in two the next time they met. He was oddly pleased by that.”

Ichigo stretched and groaned. “Yup, sounds just like the big blue psycho. I swear, I can’t tell if he’s a sadist or a masochist.”

Kisuke smirked. “Why not both?”

Ichigo snorted. Kisuke would take the both option. Hell, he _was_ the both option. “I don’t want to admit that he might be that complex. It just makes the whole thing easier if I think he’s one or the other.”

Kisuke nodded again and reached out to help him shrug out of his kosode.

“Either way his first goal is to try to kill you,” he said, “so best not to waste mental processing space on the why of it.”

Ichigo hissed as the black material pulled away from his wounds, the fabric tugging a little where blood had dried and made it stick. “Careful Kisuke,” he said with a huff, “let Grimm do his own dirty work.” The blond head lowered and Ichigo shivered a little at the light drag of lips across injured skin.

“Grimmjow-san can, indeed, do his own dirty work, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love it when you are so delightfully dirty.”

In the time they’d been together, Ichigo had learned at least one thing. Nothing got Kisuke worked up faster than seeing him either mid or just-post-battle. Something about the torn, worn, sweaty look of him after a fight pushed every one of the blond’s buttons.

“Kisuke,” he said, shoving the taller man away a little, “come on. I’m gross. Let me grab a shower and then you can take advantage of my weakened state all you want.” Kisuke’s fingers dug a little deeper into the meat of his hips and Ichigo couldn’t help his stuttering inhalation. It was easy to forget how strong the other man actually was. “Shower Kisuke. You can join me if you want.” Ichigo pried his hands away, and grinned up at him. “Maybe then you could make me another one of those curare teas if you still have some lying around. I wouldn’t mind the view.”

Kisuke’s eyebrows rose comically and Ichigo took the opportunity to dodge free, leaving the blond grinning behind him as he made for the bathroom. Ichigo stripped the remains of his shihakusho away and climbed into the glass cubicle, only then reaching out to turn on the water. Kisuke was naked behind him before it even began to warm. Hot lips latched onto the sensitive spot at the base of his neck, teeth worrying the skin until Ichigo knew he’d have a violently purple mark when he was done.

“I swear you have your own Hollow,” he said on a groan, “there’s no other way to explain your obsession with biting me.”

Kisuke huffed out a laugh that sent waves of goosebumps rippling along Ichigo’s back, “Don’t blame me because you’re delectable.”

“At least you don’t blame the whole strawberry thing,” Ichigo said arching into the biting kisses, not bothering to stifle a moan when Kisuke hit a particularly good spot.

“No,” the blond agreed, “your skin is many things, but ‘sweet and fruity’ wouldn’t be on my list of adjectives.” There was a pause, and Ichigo smiled silently into the water falling in his face. _Gotcha._

“Normally bitter wouldn’t be on that list either,” Kisuke’s delivery was as bland as plain rice, “but clearly something is different today.”

“It’s just the dirt, I told you I was gross,” Ichigo was so proud that he didn’t laugh, but it still wasn’t flying.

“No, I know what Hueco Mundo dirt tastes like, more’s the pity, and this is decidedly different.”

Ichigo turned in Kisuke’s arms and pressed their fronts together. “Maybe it’s my new soap?”

The taller man shook his head and smiled, “No, I got a mouthful of that this morning when I was...” the grin widened into a smirk, “No. This… this is decidedly new.”

Ichigo tilted his head back allowing the water to rinse the dust and dirt from his hair. “Hmmm. I can’t imagine what it could be. I mean, if Mr. I-could-never-be-drugged doesn’t know what it is.”

Kisuke let out a groan and dropped his head into the crook of Ichigo’s neck and shoulder. “Will you never let that go? I told you it was just because of my training…”

Ichigo snorted. “That wasn’t about training. That was about ego. Yours. The size of Mt. Fuji.”

Silver-gray eyes peeked out at him. “Just Mt. Fuji? You aren’t going to go for, say, Everest?”

Another snort. “See? Ego. Can’t even settle for your _that_ being smaller than something else. Shall we continue this discussion or move straight on to the penis measuring?”

A water-slick hand shot out and grasped his cock and gave a tantalizingly slow pump. “I would have figured you’d have memorized that by now.”

It was true. Ichigo had everything about Kisuke’s cock memorized—size, weight, texture, taste—but this wasn’t the time to get side-tracked.

“Regardless of my knowledge of your junk,” Kisuke choked on a laugh and Ichigo couldn’t help but smile, “Before it becomes impossible, I would like you to admit that I have, in fact, successfully dosed you with something that you were unaware of, don’t recognize, and would have no way of combatting.”

Kisuke sighed and leaned forward, pressing a light kiss on his lips. “So admitted. Now, are you going to tell me what I just licked off your shoulder, or am I just going to be your guinea pig for the evening?”

Ichigo reached down and trailed his fingers across Kisuke’s semi-hard length, reveling in the full-body shudder that accompanied the motion.

“I really wanted to figure out how to dose you with the hypersensitization stuff, but I figured that anything you’ve tested on me was out. You’d have familiarized yourself with all the information about it.”

Kisuke hummed in agreement. “That was a logical assumption.” He busied his hands soaping Ichigo’s back. “So that means this isn’t something we’ve, ah, investigated before?”

“No.” He turned to let Kisuke rinse him. Oh well, getting a mouthful into him was enough for his purposes. “Although, knowing you I’m surprised that you didn’t recognize it immediately. People call you an old pervert often enough.”

Gray eyes widened a fraction. “So, it’s that kind of evening I’m in for, hmmm?”

Ichigo nodded. “You’d have been in for that kind of night whether you discovered my trick or not. This way it’s just going to be a little more… interesting.”

Kisuke dropped his head and nibbled along the long tendon that stretched along his jawline. “Interesting. I can work with interesting.”

They didn’t speak for a few minutes, hands and mouths exploring each other under the falling water.

“Let’s move this into the bedroom before the warm water runs out,” Ichigo said, breaking up Kisuke’s lamprey imitation where he was attempting to leave “Kisuke was here” in love bites along Ichigo’s shoulder.

They tripped and dripped their way down the hall, drying each other haphazardly with towels in between breaks to kiss and touch and leave each other breathless, until they finally dropped onto the futon.

“So,” Kisuke said, his voice a little rough around the edges, “are you going to tell me what you used?”

Their hips were slotted together and Ichigo rocked his hips, rutting against Kisuke. A pool of wetness gathered on his stomach as his foreskin pulled back exposing his glans, the skin a shiny red, sensitive and oh so tempting, and the blond moaned at the feeling.

“I used what any young lover uses when he wants a good hard fucking from an older partner.” He leaned up and nipped at Kisuke’s earlobe. “Sildenafil.”

Kisuke reared back a stunned look on his face. “You dosed me with erectile dysfunction medication?”

Ichigo bucked his hips up again, sliding their cocks together once more, and answered a little breathlessly. “I did. Ryuuken thought it was hysterical. And remember, ah,” he tried to focus on the words, “an erection lasting more than four hours may require further _intervention_.”

Kisuke rolled them to where Ichigo was straddling him and dragged his hard-on through the cleft of his ass and along Ichigo’s sensitive entrance.

“If I have an erection for more than four hours,” he said, his voice full of promise, “I am not the one who is going to be needing assistance.”

“ _Fuck_ , Kisuke,” Ichigo couldn’t have stopped the words if he’d tried. He wanted so much. Screw the whole drugging contest. He just wanted Kisuke. “ _Please._ ”

Long fingers ripped open the bedside drawer with more haste than grace, and Kisuke grabbed the new jar of lubricant he’d placed there earlier. He slicked his fingers generously before returning to Ichigo’s ass, pushing slowly, inexorably, against the dark pucker there. 

“Oh, I will,” he said, beginning the long, drawn-out process of taking Ichigo apart before the release of putting him back together again. “In about three and a half hours.”

Fuck.


End file.
